


Kill 'em all

by DevilsDontFlyButJustYouWatchMeTry (KissMyAssButt67)



Series: The Boy With Hell's Fire In His Eyes [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Dark!Dean, Kidnapping, M/M, dark!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 08:58:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4385735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KissMyAssButt67/pseuds/DevilsDontFlyButJustYouWatchMeTry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean would kill 'em all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kill 'em all

There was nothing more wicked than the laugh of a man better off dead.

There were rogues in the hunting community like there were in all things, in all social groups, in all societies and worlds. Most hunters of America knew the name Winchester. Whether it was whispered in fear about two men who saw nothing but skin to tear, blood to spill, and souls to break, or whether it was whispered in pity about a little boy who wasn’t right in the head and a young man who didn’t realise the red bloody veins of sin wrapping themselves around his heart.

His laughter seemed to fill the room, it seemed to shake the walls and attack at their nerves. His beautiful hazel brown eyes seemed to light up as he threw his head back and laughed, it was wild, it was insane, and yet it was oddly beautiful. He was a large man, and even now as they held him, he seemed without fear. It was arrogant, they told themselves. It was foolish, they said in their heads.

He seemed to calm down enough to speak.

“Sorry, sorry, but that’s uh…that’s a little crazy isn’t it?” he asked, grinning a killers grin.

The leader was a short but muscular guy, his brown hair was cut short, and Sam knew that him. He was the one Dean was going to go for first. He looked over to the others, bigger and taller, but they were stupid, they were blindly following a leader who couldn’t care less for them.  They were two guards by the door, and they were so stupid. They thought Dean would come charging through like a bull, because that’s what everyone thought. They forgot Dean was a soldier, a Winchester. He was trained to be different, to be smarter than his opponent. He was trained to obtain his objective with as much skill as possible, he was trained to impress, and if there was one thing Sam would give his dad it was that he was one hell of a trainer. Unfortunately for these guys Sam had added that extra bit of insanity, that extra bit of love, that extra bit of need. Now Dean was skilled, nothing could take that from him, but he was scared as well. He was terrified of whatever they could be doing to his Sammy, and that, that was what fuelled the monster within.

“Quite bold coming from you, isn’t it Winchester?” the leader asked, his voice was thick and deep.

Sam tested the restraints, they weren’t too shoddy, but they were still loose enough that Sam could escape. He relaxed back into the hard chair.

“The boy who told a thousand lies, the boy who cried; the boy who took what was a perfectly good man and turned him into a demon. That’s you isn’t it, boy?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders back.

“He was already bad, he just needed a nudge.”

The leader grabbed a stool and sat in front of Sam.

“You’re not afraid, we could kill you. We could rip you apart, we could make you scream.”

Sam grinned a lopsided grin, the grin that would have Dean on his knees in second, as those brown eyes that seemed to full of life, so full of beautiful innocence, stared into the cold glinting eyes of his captor.

“You could, you really could. Except we both know that you won’t. You’re scared, you’ve already stolen me away, taken me away from his arms. How long do you think it took him to notice? An hour I’d wager, an hour _tops._ He _always_ wakes up first. So now he knows I’m not just gone, I’m missing, I’ve been taken. You’re boys over there roughed me up, now that’ll have them killed but you? That’ll have you _burned._ Do you really want to make me scream? What do you think he’ll do? He’ll do such beautiful things, beautiful, beautiful things.”

There was a smash on the ceiling and Sam laughed.

“What did I tell you?” he laughed.

He gestured to the two men and told them to go up top. They nodded and marched out.

Sam let out a scream, a loud pained scream.

The guy starred at him with wide eyes, Sam winked.

“DEAN!” he yelled, his voice thick with desperate panicked need.

An engine roared, but it was more than that. It had to be two or three.

The guy ran to a dirty window, starring outside at two black pickup trucks and that beautiful slick muscle car, the impala.

There were guns shots, screams, and laughter. Beautiful laughter that seemed to fill the air.

The man turned back to Sam.

“What is he?” he demanded.

Sam grinned and shrugged.

“Sometimes I wonder,” he chuckled.

 

Dean jumped and caught the gun from the air.

“You gonna be alright mate?” one of them asked.

They were old friends, from that one time they got stuck in prison. It was only for a few days, far too long in Dean’s opinion. They helped protect Sam and that made them friends for life in Dean’s opinion.

“Yeah, drop these guys in a river somewhere will ya?” he asked.

“Sure thing, you go save ya lad.”

Dean flashed a crazy grin, the kind that made even them wonder who he was and what he was, before he climbed onto the stairs connected to the wall of the warehouse.

“Miranda wants to know when you’re coming for dinner!” he yelled before Deanna slipped down.

“I’ll ask Sammy,” Dean called before sliding down the steps.

 

He flew through the window and sauntered in, an insane grin on his face.

“Sammy, you ran off, got me all worried baby boy.”

Sam turned his head as far as he could, “You know what I’m like, I can’t stay out of trouble!” he laughed.

The leader starred at both of them, at these two brothers, with horror.

Dean walked up behind Sam, and stroking his hand through his hair and down his face.

“I know, I know, just wish you’d give me some kind of sign is all. I wake up in the middle of the night, and you’re gone.”

He pulled out a gun from his pocket and pointed it over Sam’s shoulder.

“I kept my phone on didn’t I?”

“Now, I have nothing against rogue hunters, but you, you little shit, touched my Sammy. For fuck sake, if you had asked him nicely, his would’a come with you!”

His green eyes were alight with flames and the ever boiling heat of envious hatred.

Sam smiled, leaning back into the touch.

“You know I can’t resist seeing you in the mood, you’re not being fair,” Sam pouted.

Dean pulled his hair, “We go to bars for that, you’re a slut for blood Sammy.”

Sam whined and angled his head so it would be more comfortable.

“So here’s what gonna happen asshole, I’m going to shoot you and if you run my friend Jamie, lovely lad, is going to get his first blood-”

“Ooh did Deanna bring some food?”

“-Yes, she brought me pie and you some of that weird apple fruit parfait stuff. Anyway, make your choice.”

The guy starred at Dean for three seconds and then belted it.

Dean shrugged.

He walked around the chair, crouched and undid the rope with his knife.

“Go to the roof, foods in the duffel bag, I gotta go chase that son of a bitch.”

“You lied,” Sam stated.

“He’s gonna think he’s home free, and then I’m going to cut him up nice and good.”

Sam let out a groan.

“Mm, come back nice and bloody for me baby.”

Dean kissed his cheek, and then ran out after the guy.

Sam got up; wiped down his jeans, before climbing up through the same window Dean had come through.

 

Dean ran across the dirt road, a large grin on his face.

“Ah come on buddy, don’t you wanna fight me like a man?” Dean laughed, yelling after him.

He was a fast little fucker.

“Fuck off!” the man yelled; his voice a pitch higher than it was before.

Dean threw his knife and hit the man in the pit of his knee.

He laughed and cheered.

“The guy fell to the ground; he twisted and tugged at the knife.

Dean jogged up to him, hovering over and grinning wildly.

He pulled the knife out in one strong tug and he screamed out.

Dean flipped him over; he starred into those cold dark eyes, and wrapped his hand around his throat.

“I’d love to suffocate you, I really would love to leave you to die in the dirt, but I promised Sammy a blood bath and I’d never lie to him.”

He picked him up and threw him over his shoulder.

“Come on, back to the warehouse,” and he jogged off, the man limp and defeated on his shoulder.

“Fucking Winchesters,”

“Well yes, I guess me and my brother are both fucking Winchesters,” he chuckled.

 

Sam was sitting back in the chair, eating his parfait yoghurt and smiling.

Dean walked in, throwing the guy on the floor without grace.

“Where’s that pie,” he asked.

Sam shook his head, “Entertainment first, then pie,”

Dean groaned.

“You bully me, I swear it Samantha.”

Sam shrugged.

He turned around, flipping the guy face up.

“Hello, me again, you still with me Capone?”

He picked up his knife and placed it on the edge of his cheek near his left ear.

“That doesn’t make sense yet,”

He dug it across his cheek, inhaling the scent of crimson metal, and stopped just before he hit his lip.

“There! Now you’re Al Capone!”

Sam let out a small snort at his brother’s sense of humour.

The guy let out a groan.

Dean pulled his shirt off, the pool of blood by his knee growing rapidly, and threw his shirt into that very pool of blood.

He cut sliced across his chest and the man screamed out.

Blood hit Dean’s face and he grinned, he cut again and a spray hit his face.

Sam walked over, leaning over Dean.

Blood dripped from Dean’s face, his teeth, down his chin and neck. Sam kneeled next to him and licked it up.

“Mmm, tastes like fear,” he growled in Dean’s ear.

Dean shuffled down, away from his brother, and began to cut deeper, more jagged.

“Go away; I’m doing something here Sammy,”

Sam crossed his arms and pouted.

“Why can’t I watch? I always watch!” Sam whined.

“It’s a surprise,”

Sam rolled his eyes and went to sit back in his chair.

 

The man screamed out and Dean hummed to the beat of it, the sound of his agony.

“See, I had everything nice and planned, and then you gotta go and ruin it. You are nowhere near as pretty as I wanted,” Dean sighed.

Blood continued to spill onto his hands, clinging to his tanned skin.

He curved and sliced and whistled.

He pulled away and beckoned Sam over.

Sam starred down at the chest.

The man had bled out a while ago, his screamed now silenced by the mask of death.

On his chest and stomach was a jagged heart and inside were two initials, the initials of two infamous hunters gone rogue.

Sam turned to see Dean’s proud grin.

“Crazy, it’s crazy Sammy.”

Sam grinned.

“We’re crazy, crazy Dean.”

They walked out of that warehouse, pie and duffel bag in hand, and lit it up.

 

Oh the rumours spread.

They said that the guy had been asking for it, after all nobody took Sammy from Dean.

They said Dean had gone in there like a mad man, slaughtered all of them all by himself.

They said that there were over one hundred men in there and Dean took ‘em all down.

A week later Dean and Sam went to Deanna’s, Michael’s and Jamie’s house for dinner.

They laughed at the gossip; they put out an old tape and danced to the devil’s music.

That night Sam and Dean went home and fell asleep in a shitty old motel mattress, Sam safely tucked within Dean’s arms.

Oh, they could talk, but everybody seemed to miss the bigger picture.

It didn’t matter if it was one man or a hundred: Dean would kill ‘em all.

He kissed his brother’s forehead, and Sam let out a breath of relaxation.

He’d kill ‘em all, just to hear that sound.

“I love you Sammy,” he whispered before falling asleep, knife under his pillow and gun under his bed.

He’d kill ‘em all.

 


End file.
